Under November's heavy hand of cold, the trees are shedding the last of their glorious coat of leaves. They stand more and more naked, exposing the stark gray sky that stares down on the browning surface. Pavements and buildings look drab without the cheery, lush commentary that lawns and flowers speak. At best, we want to embrace winter with warm sweaters and coats comforting our bodies. We like the facade of snow to hide the dreary brown and dull green ground. The smell of cold air replaces the warm tartness of decaying leaves. Now, our spirits are jolted into resistance against the dreary face of winter without its white mask to disguise the barren skeleton of the sleeping earth. We long for holidays, snow, closings to cheer us up. Until then, we retreat inside and wait.